


Two Cubes Down

by gerardsjuarez



Category: My Chemical Romance, Taking Back Sunday
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Based on a My Chemical Romance Song, Concerts, M/M, cubicles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 09:51:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20704004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gerardsjuarez/pseuds/gerardsjuarez
Summary: At the office Gerard codes for, there's a cube set aside for temps. Over the years, he's tried and failed many times to connect with the people who come and go. That is until, with the help of an ex, a rock concert, and an almost broken nose, he's able to have a watercooler romance with Frank - the temp only two cubes down.





	Two Cubes Down

**Author's Note:**

> This fic started off as a piece to rant about my feelings of most likely dying alone until my editor digitally grabbed me by the shoulders and said, "Don't do that to yourself." So instead, I created the anti-anthem of the song this was originally based off of - Cubicles (aka one of my fav MCR songs). I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it. God's speed.

_It's the tearing sound of love-notes_  
_Drowning out these gray-stained windows_  
_And the view outside is sterile_  
_And I'm only two cubes down_  
_I'd photocopy all the things that we could be_  
_If you took the time to notice me_  
_But you can't now, I don't blame you_  
_And it's not your fault that no one ever does_

_\- Cubicles by My Chemical Romance_

Gerard was zoned out, photocopying some unimportant thing or other for someone who thought of him as nothing but an errand runner, despite the fact he’d been working there longer than that said person had. He was staring blankly at a sign above the copy machine, stating that no one on the premises should use it for personal use. They never really regulated that; the camera that was in the room had stopped working some 4 years ago. He hadn’t been there then but the janitor had and their lunch breaks lined up every Wednesday.

What woke him up from his photocopying daze was some mild commotion behind him. He always expected it to be his boss, Nancy, calling everyone’s attention for an announcement. It was always something like ‘there are week-old donuts in the break room’ or ‘we have to make some pay cuts this month’. Wonderful stuff of the like. But this time, it hadn’t been either. Gerard peeked around the doorframe to get a look of what was going on (the man who had sent him to make copies would probably get short with him if he caught Gerard being curious again) and found a man setting up in the previously empty cube.

Throughout the 2-ish years that he had worked at the firm, he could count about 100 people who had used that cube. There were plenty of bland faces, plenty of average, and a few interesting faces that stuck with him. There had been a former scene girl, an Italian soon-to-be-accountant, and a man with reddish eyes and a toothy grin who played the bagpipes in a band on Fridays.

Gerard had only seen a glimpse of this new guy - a flash of black hair and a white box. He took another step forward, maybe just to introduce himself, but it was then that Todd from sales, the man who sent him in the first place, spotted him.

“Way!” He shouted across the room, warranting the attention of everyone in the building.

He ducked back into the copy room before anyone could make a big deal of it. Thankfully, it didn’t take very long to copy all of the things that needed to be copied. Gerard ran them to Todd, narrowly avoiding a paternal scolding. Once again, he was met with a dilemma. Coffee or water? 

It had been a pretty uneventful morning of copying, ignoring the snide remarks of coworkers, and helping Nancy find a lipstick color that matched what she was wearing. She said that with Gerard being a former art student, he should have a good eye for color. It was a weird experience altogether but he was happy to help with something other than drink runs and shredding documents.

He was trying his best to remain unseen on his way to the barely functioning coffee machine when he was stopped by who he assumed was the new guy. He looked confused. Gerard could relate.

“Hey, do you know where the break room is? No one showed me when I was being trained.” The man’s smile was almost guilty as if his mere presence was a burden.

“I’m actually on my way there.” Gerard weakly motioned for him to follow, “I can show you if you’d like.”

He sighed, relieved, “Thanks, man. I owe you.”

“I wouldn’t say this is worth owing someone anything.” He laughed through his nose, shrugging a shoulder, “Just tell me your name and we’ll call it even.”

“Oh! Yeah, right, I should probably do that.” He lifted his fist, “I’m Frank.”

With an eyebrow raised, he bumped his fist, “Gerard.”

“Was that too informal?” Frank asked, shooting him a wary look.

Gerard chuckled and pushed open the break room door, “No, you’re all good. I’m probably the only one here who wouldn’t mind that, though. Just a warning.”

“Thanks,” he said to both the door being held for him and for the advice, “I’ve already had a run-in with… Todd? He said I was unpacking my things too loud.”

“God, Todd’s an asshole. Don’t let him get to you.” He made his way to where a cold pot of coffee sat, pouring himself a cup, and shoving it in the microwave, “He was the one who yelled at me today. So if you heard someone shouting ‘Way!’, that was for me.”

“That’s bogus.”

“Bogus.” Gerard agreed, sharing a grin with Frank, “I code but they’ve been treating me like some kind of 18-year-old intern coffee girl since I started working here two years ago.”

“Two years?” He asked, impressed.

Frank was close then, deciding on getting his own mug of coffee. He hadn’t realized that he needed to buy a mug to use, not just take one from the cupboard, so Gerard let him use the other one he kept at the very back. It was a flamboyant cup - a pink, glittery mug that 70s rock artists would’ve approved of - but Frank didn’t seem to mind, taking it gratefully. 

“Two years, yeah. I didn’t mean to stay for more than a few months but,” he shrugged, taking his coffee out of the microwave, “it pays my bills and I can’t seem to find another job.”

Solemnly, Frank nodded, “I took up my position because I need something to help fuel my passions, you know?”

“I know,” Gerard responded gravely.

There was an awkward pause.

Frank gestured with his cup of coffee and gave Gerard a polite smile, “Well, uh, thanks for letting me use your mug. I’ll see you around the office.”

He blinked, “Uh, yeah. It’s no problem.”

He watched Frank leave the break room and felt a piece of him crack. Not really in a psychopathic way but more of a… crack in his self-esteem. He couldn’t even make friends with the new temp at the office without scaring him off. For the rest of the day, he photocopied and shredded things like usual, taking breaks to stare at Frank working in his cubicle from a safe distance.

…

The lights in the room were dim as Gerard fumbled through his top dresser drawer. The apartment was sort of in shambles with semi-broken furniture, 6-watt lightbulbs, and a general smell of week-old coffee permeating the air. He didn’t live alone, though, he had Mikey, his trusty younger brother. He mostly slept and ate there, though. The last time they hung out was 6 months ago and that was to watch The Crow when Gerard got it on DVD. They did share a room, though. He sent an anxious glance to Mikey’s Star Wars bed set.

Frantically, he snatched his bottle of cheap foundation as soon as he heard the front door open and slam shut; Mikey was home. Gerard’s shaking hands unscrewed the cap and without much grace, he squeezed some into his hand, smearing it on a bruise on his neck. He grew even more scatterbrained as footsteps thundered toward his door. With an angry huff, he decided that the deed was done and he should face the consequences instead of wasting his Covergirl foundation. He feigned confidence with good posture and one hand on top of the dresser.

The door flung open and in came Mikey, still in his work uniform, “Can you tell me who the fuck I just ran into coming up the stairs looking all lovestruck with his underwear in his fucking hands?”

“Oliver,” Gerard said, unsure.

“Oliver,” Mikey repeated, incredulous.

The eldest groaned, “Or it could’ve been Oscar. He had an accent!”

“What the fuck!? You don’t even know his name? Even _ I _know the name of my one night stands, Gerard!” He gestured outward and threw his bag onto his bed, coming into the room, “How’d you meet this one? Did he accidentally breathe near you?” 

Gerard looked at the floor, “I met him on MySpace.”

“What!?”

“I met him on MySpace!” He exclaimed, his hands turned into fists at his sides, “He left a picture comment and we started talking!”

“He left you a picture comment.” Mikey scoffed, changing out of his uniform and into his sweatpants.

“Why do you have such a big problem with this, anyway? It’s my private life!” Gerard crossed his arms, ears red.

“Because,” he turned around and very calmly said, “We share a room. That’s number one. But for number two, Gerard, how many people have been with you since… say, two weeks ago?”

“What?” He took a step back, his face falling.

“How many _ lovers _ have you had since two Mondays ago?” Mikey rephrased, seemingly awaiting Gerard’s downfall.

Quietly, he admitted, “I… I don’t know.” 

“I rest my case.” He sighed and sat down on his bed, rubbing his hands over his face, “Why tonight? Something bad usually happens when you hook up with someone. Are you upset? Did you forget to take your meds? You know that-”

“I took my meds!” He shot out before Mikey went on a rant. He sat on his own bed with a sigh, reaching over to his bedside table to grab a makeup wipe. It was useless to hide the hickey now, “I tried to befriend the new temp and I think I scared him off. Got too real too soon. I think I have a tendency to overshare.”

What Gerard left out was the fact that he basically stalked this said temp until his cover had been blown. Whenever Frank took a cigarette break, Gerard was there doing the same; whenever Frank went to get more coffee, Gerard was mysteriously already in the break room; and whenever Frank was quietly working in his cubicle, Gerard was across the room idly shredding papers and trying to figure out what the tattoo peeking out from his shirt collar was. 

He had passed Frank’s cube about 5 times when he poked his head out and asked him to shred something for him because he was ‘so mobile’. Gerard had sullenly driven home listening to his copy of Avril Lavigne’s Let Go.

Mikey sighed, long and miserable, falling onto his back, “How was Oliver? Was he nice to you?”

“He was fine.” Gerard made a face. He thought it was weird that Mikey was concerned with Gerard’s sexual safety. Well, weirdly endearing, “How was work?”

“I got promoted to supervisor.” He said casually.

“That’s awesome! God, the guy that supervised the produce department before was such a dick. I’m glad they finally ditched him.” Gerard stood up and sat next to Mikey. 

They shared a grin.

“He stressed everyone out all the time and I’m glad that we won’t have that problem anymore. He never knew how to use the new handheld devices or where to stock the peaches.” He grinned at the ceiling and nudged Gerard’s thigh with his hand, “I could always get you a job there, you know.”

“You’re sweet, Mikes, but I think I’ll stick with the staple company for now.” His smile had a sad edge to it.

“I guess they do pay you nine dollars an hour.” He mumbled, “Do you wanna watch Clueless? I went to Goodwill and they had it for fifty cents.”

Gerard hummed, “Hmm, yeah. I’ll make popcorn.”

... 

It was about three hours until Gerard had to go to work and he was still awake. His brother was already at work, making sure the produce was in line or whatever he did that early. He didn’t exactly want to be awake so early but he couldn’t sleep the night before so at about 6am, he got up and had a cup of coffee. He supposed that he could go get some breakfast at that diner down the street. 

He threw on his usual business casual attire and headed out to White’s (since 1956). His mom had taken him there when he was only 5, so the waitresses who worked there knew him quite well. He hadn’t been down there in a hot minute and when he entered the building, a high-pitched noise came from the back in the form of his name.

“Ger_ ard _!” The voice gasped, “Scuse me, Maggie - Gerard!”

Forks clattered to their plates as Lindsey rushed from behind the bar to meet Gerard by the ‘please seat yourself’ sign. He’d known her since… well, since forever, really. Gerard was 23 and Lindsey was somewhere in her 40s so… yeah. Since forever. She scooped him up into a hug and squeezed him tight enough that it hurt.

“Oh, baby, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you! How’s Donna? Work? Mikey? You gotta tell me everything.” She pulled away, smiling bright and big. 

Gerard had forgotten what delight she was to be around but was definitely remembering as she pulled him to the bar and got him some black coffee, eagerly awaiting what he had to say. He cleared his throat after he took a long, much needed drink of coffee.

“My mom is good. She’s still doing hair. Work is… the same. Nothing really interesting to report. And Mikey got promoted to supervisor recently! I’m really proud of him.” He grinned, feeling genuinely happy for the first time in weeks.

“Oh, that’s so good! His former supervisor is a dick.” Lindsey’s nose scrunched up distastefully, “I’m glad that they saw Mikey as a good substitute. And he’s so young, too!”

“Youngest supervisor of the produce department, I heard.” Gerard took another drink, “So what’s new with you, Linds?”

“Oh, you know,” she waved her hand as if to say ‘wait’ while she put some bread into the toaster, “I’m still working here. The band is still going. We took a break for a bit but we’ve got a couple of gigs coming up in October if you’re interested.”

“Of course I’m interested,” He scoffed. He had been to almost every single gig they did, “Any new music?”

“No, no. Jimmy’s been trying to wrestle up some of our old tapes so he can make them digital, remaster them and put them out as an album. I’m all for it, but it’s gonna take a few years, for sure.” She chuckled, “We’re gonna need to put it out, though, because business here isn’t as good as it used to be. New places keep opening up and, well, new is better these days. A new album brings in money. An old diner stays the same.”

“What? What new businesses?” Gerard’s eyebrows furrowed as Lindsey set the eggs and toast down in front of him.

“There’s a coffee shop that’s in the works to the left of us. And last month, an authentic French pastry shop opened up across the street.” She sighed and, after making sure no one was looking, took a drink of Gerard’s coffee, “I’ve been thinking about applying at some of these new places. I’m tired of pay cuts.”

He looked at the red lipstick stain on the mug and sighed, too, “So am I. I started out making nearly 10 dollars an hour but since the company is slowly starting to lose commercial interest, I’ve gone down to about 9 dollars. But c’est la vie, I guess.”

“Amen,” she huffed, sagging her shoulders for a moment until her boss came out of the backroom. She straightened her posture and gave Gerard a fake smile, “Everything look good, hon?”

Gerard said, “Fine, Lindsey. Thank you,” and began to eat.

…

Frank was in his cubicle for a considerably long amount of time before he got up to go to the watercooler by the cork boards. Gerard had been waiting for Frank to get up for a considerably long amount of time so he could try yet again to maintain a more than 5-second conversation. He was almost there when a friend of Gerard’s intercepted, standing between him and the watercooler with a big grin on his face.

“A-Adam!” He stuttered, spooked, “What - uh, what’s up?”

“Oh, just thought I would check in on my favorite coder-turned-paper shredder.” He grinned, tucking a piece of long hair behind his ear, “You got a moment?”

“Uh,” Gerard looked behind him to see that Frank had gone back to his cube, “Yeah, I got nothing else better to do.”

“Nice! That leads me to my next point.” He pulled Gerard aside by his arm so that they weren’t standing in the middle of the walkway, “I’ve got a pretty big gig tonight and I want you to be there.”

“Adam, I-”

He cut Gerard off, looking desperate, “Listen, Gee, I know we’ve been through what we’ve been through but you’re like… kind of like a good luck charm?”

Gerard stared at him.

“I know.” Adam chuckled, nervous, “The thing is, every concert that you’ve been to of mine, it has gone like supernaturally well and this one is a big deal. Our manager thinks that he’s found someone willing to sign us. A company that won’t cheat us, you know? And I want it to go well.”

“I get that, Adam, I do but when you mean good luck charm, you mean…” He gestured vaguely to his face.

He grimaced, “Are you… okay with that still?”

“I…” He trailed off as Frank passed them, waiting until he was out of earshot, “I don’t know.”

Adam looked around the two of them and seemed to realize how suspicious they looked, standing so close together near the wall. He gently pushed Gerard back an inch and looked after Frank. His eyes lit up, “Frank is coming.”

“Why would that interest me?” Gerard narrowed his eyes at him.

“Oh, like I don’t see you constantly stalking him around the office. I know a homoerotic glance when I see one. Speaking from personal experience.” He grinned, “He’s actually into our band. Bought our album online. It’ll be a great excuse to… get to know him?”

“Adam-”

“Gerard,” he grabbed his hand for a brief second, letting go like he got burnt when Margeret from Accounting came by with her bifocals hanging dangerously on her nose, “Come on, man. It’s at Maxwell’s. You don’t even have to stay. You can just pop up before we go on and leave! Or at least stay for the opener? It’s the one we co-wrote.”

With a sigh, he mentally gave in. Adam had a point and was a debate team champion, Gerard could never win. He didn’t have a bad thought toward him, either. He was just being stubborn and antisocial like usual. He guessed he needed a little punk gig to keep him sane.

“Alright, Adam. I’ll go. And I’ll stay for the whole concert, okay?” He chuckled, “You always know how to win me over.”

“Yes!” Adam beamed and put his hands on Gerard’s shoulders. He could see the hesitation on his face as he paused before giving in and placing a chaste kiss to Gerard’s head, “You are a lifesaver, Way. I owe you so hard.”

“Yeah, you do.” He fixed his hair and watched Adam walk away.

He still had an idle smile on his face when he noticed that _ Frank _ was looking at _ him _ over the top of the cube. When they made eye contact, his head went back down. That was… odd. Oh, God. That meant he had probably seen that whole interaction. Gerard was half tempted to move to some remote island off the coast of Italy but decided, well, what the hell. 

Frank was pretending to be busy with a few blank sheets of paper when Gerard came around and knocked on the side on the cubicle, “Uh, hey.”

“Oh! Hey, Gerard.” He smiled, turning around in his office chair.

“I just got done talking with Adam. So you’re going to his gig tonight? I didn’t know that you liked Taking Back Sunday.” Gerard started off as casually as he could, leaning against the cube.

“Yeah! Yeah, I do. I saw them live a couple of years back and fell in love with their sound. I’m really into the New Jersey punk scene, actually.” He shrugged, “I guess you can’t really tell that by appearances, though. I didn’t know that you liked Adam’s band either.”

“He was in the band when I met him and they eventually grew on me. It’s always different when you know everyone in the band years before you hear the music.” He shrugged, “He knows how to persuade.”

“Right!?” Frank threw off his fake casualness and grinned, “At first I didn’t want to go because I have a family reunion tomorrow but then eventually he got me to say yes. That man could be the next president.”

Gerard had an image of Adam in a royal blue suit waving to a crowd of people. He shook his head, “I think I might pray against that.”

…

Gerard was a little early. He hadn’t intended on being so but the city traffic had… magically disappeared. Normally, he planned around heavy Friday night traffic as everyone got off work and went to a show and or a bar or whatever normal people did on a Friday night. Gerard usually stayed at home and read old issues of Fangoria while Mikey tried to make brownies again. But instead, he was standing outside the venue, cold, passing the time by watching his breath turn into vapor. The jacket he was wearing wasn’t doing him any warm favors that night.

He was about 7th in line, surprisingly, and by the time that the doors opened, there were quite a few people behind him, Frank included. Despite being so well up in line, he found himself amidst the middle of the crowd, trying to make his way to where the band was at the side of the stage. Luckily, Adam found Gerard within seconds and made a beeline for him, grabbing him by the arm and nearly dragging him to where the rest of the band was.

“My good luck charm,” he was giddy, nearly showing Gerard off to the few concertgoers who were watching the two of them.

“Adam,” Gerard said lamely back, feeling a little too exposed to do what he was about to.

His grin faltered, “It’s been a long time since we’ve done this, hasn’t it?”

Taking a careful step backward, he nodded, “About 7 months.”

“Hey, 7 is my lucky number. We’re on in…?” Adam turned to some random guy in a black shirt and the guy silently held up five fingers, “We’re on in five. How much should we…?”

“God, Adam, stop stalling.” Gerard teased, “Let’s just do it like usual. Like we did more than 7 months ago.”

There was a shocked pause.

“Hell fucking yeah, Gee.” He laughed before pulling Gerard close and planting a rather passionate kiss onto his lips.

Now, for the onlooker, the whole situation would’ve been… weird. Gerard knew that. Even when people did know the context, they thought it was weird. The thing was, Adam wholeheartedly believed that Gerard had something called ‘living luck’. It was some weird shit that Gerard had read in a horoscope one day and he had brought it to Adam so they could make fun of it together. But that didn’t happen. Adam had instead kissed Gerard in the middle of a bookstore and then found 20 bucks on the ground. It was a fucked series of events that left Gerard with the title of the Man With the Lucky Kiss. 

If Gerard had even a shred of decency, he would just kiss Adam like a man but, like any 20-year-old, he was a bit of a needy person and if Adam was willing to give, then Gerard was willing to take. Adam only pulled away from their mini makeout when Gerard’s hand moved idly into his hair.

“Wow,” Adam said and then made a face as if he hadn’t meant to say it out loud, “You know you can always call me, right?”

“I know.” Gerard nodded. They were still really close, “Do you feel lucky?”

A slow grin spread across his face, “Tonight is gonna be the best night of my life.”

And it was a pretty good night for Gerard. For the most part.

He made it about halfway through the set, feeling content in his anonymity among the crowd, when he took his eyes off the stage long enough to see that Frank was a little too close for comfort. He was maybe about ten people away, having the time of his life. He was in a plain white shirt- or, that was all Gerard could see anyway. He had a nose ring and a lip ring in and had a plethora of tattoos. It was a damn shame that companies made people cover them up. Gerard was in absolute awe of this person that he thought he knew.

Oh but then… then he didn’t feel so great. He needed to get away from Frank and as fast as he could. But he had told Adam that he wouldn’t leave until the concert was over and a promise was a promise. So that meant he had one direction to go. Forward.

It took quite a long time to squeeze his way up to the barricade and even then he had gotten elbowed in the face at least twice. His lip felt numb. He realized maybe a bit too late that escaping to the barricade and not the back of the crowd was the worst idea because it was Adam’s gig. And Adam was well known for dragging his friends into things that he did. So when he reached down like some kind of messiah, Gerard really should’ve expected to be pulled onto stage.

He panicked. There were so many faces and bright lights and noises and the room felt cold but it was also really hot. But then Adam put his arm around his shoulders and he remembered who he was, who Adam was, and what song they were playing. He did what he knew how to do: sing. 

They sang the rest of the song and well into another together. Gerard had done shows with him before, mostly playing some much-needed tambourine and shouting backing vocals when he felt like it. Sometimes a song needed an extra scream or two and Gerard was well versed in screaming out important lyrics. But that night he was just singing and smiling and sweating and really feeling like he was alive. But then the lights dimmed just a bit and there was Frank, staring up at him with big eyes and Gerard remembered what it felt like to fall from a high and into the grave.

He patted Adam on the back to give him some sort of signal that he was done. He just continued on after a subtle wink. Gerard ended up almost having to stage dive in order to get off the stage. Thankfully, the cool part about people being in control of where you go, was that they often just pushed you toward the back of the crowd. And once Gerard was on his feet, he went out a back door and stood next to the band’s van while he waited for the concert to end.

Three more songs played and then it was over. People came and went. Gerard stood firm in place, cold and anxious. But then a figure in a white t-shirt came over and stood right next to Gerard.

“You stayed.” Frank said, shocked, “I thought you went home.”

“Why’d you think that?”

“Adam said that you probably did.”

Gerard looked over at him, “You asked where I was?”

Frank kicked at the ground, “Yeah.”

There was an awkward pause. Gerard watched Frank dig through his pockets and pull out a pack of cigarettes. 

“Can I bum one?” He asked hopefully and grinned when Frank handed over the pack.

“You and Adam seem to be close.” He said casually as he lit the cigarette for Gerard.

He exhaled, “We dated for a year and 6 months.”

“Shit, really? As in past tense?” His eyes grew wide.

Gerard laughed, “I’m guessing you saw what happened before the show?”

He nodded.

“Adam thinks that I’m good luck. He kissed me once and then found 20 dollars on the ground right after. From then on, he wouldn’t play an important show or make a big decision without sneaking one in first.” He flicked ash over his shoulder and watched as the band came out to the van one member at a time.

“And tonight was an important gig?” He rubbed at his arms.

“A few record labels came,” Gerard explained, shrugging his jacket off so that the two of them could use it as a blanket. It was thin but it was fleece so it would at least keep Frank’s arms warm.

“Damn,” he said. He stepped closer to Gerard until their shoulders touched so that he was covered, “Thanks.”

Gerard was just about to ask ‘would you maybe wanna come home with me? We could watch a movie with my brother’ when Adam came through the back doors and greeted the huddled two with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

Frank stepped away pretty quick, “I, uh. I think I better get going. Your show was really sick, Adam. I had a really good time. I’ll call you sometime! Bye, Gerard.”

“Bye…”

Adam leaned against the side of the van and watched Frank leave. He turned to Gerard who merely put up a hand, “Don’t.”

“Fine, fine!” He laughed, “We have a meeting with a record company on Wednesday night.”

Gerard’s jaw dropped.

… 

When Gerard came back home, Mikey was… not pleased. He wanted to know where he had been on a Friday night because he had planned to watch a movie with him. He had bought the good popcorn, too. His brother hadn’t been too happy when Gerard said he went to a concert.

“What concert?” He asked, jaw set.

“Taking Back Sunday. Adam needed me to kiss him again.” Gerard tried to make it seem like not a big deal but he knew that Mikey was secretly boiling.

“Gerard,” Mikey said, oddly level, “come here.”

Out of instinct, he took a step forward but quickly took it back, “Why?”

“So I can smack you!” He rushed forward and the fear that Gerard felt all of a sudden was way too real.

He tried to get out of the way but there weren’t really any advantage points. Gerard ended up lamely falling onto his bed and bracing himself for impact. Mikey didn’t hit him thankfully but he for sure jabbed him with pointy fingers. Gerard laughed but he didn’t like the sensation, so he stuck out his arm to shield his body.

Mikey backed away, rubbing his hip and looking a little less angry, “You’re an asshole, Gee. At least tell me it sucked so I feel better.”

A pause.

Gerard groaned, “It was amazing. The band scored a meeting with a record company this Wednesday.”

“Shit!” Mikey beamed, “Oh, you gotta invite him over so we can… do something. Are you still good with him?”

“I went to a concert and made out with him before the show; I’d say we’re on good terms.” He laughed, “After he kissed me, he said ‘you know you can always call me, right?’ I’m not so sure how I feel about that.”

He sat down next to Gerard, seemingly over with poking random parts of his brother. He made a face, “I’m not sure what to make of it. Maybe he misses you?”

Gerard snorted, “Or he just wants to sleep with me.” 

“And that’s bad?” 

He swatted at Mikey, “Yes! We haven’t dated for a long time. It would be pointless to hook up with him just for the sake of hooking up. It would make things complicated since I’m kinda pursuing-”

“Pursuing?” Mikey’s eyebrows furrowed before he put two and two together, “That guy from work! What’s his name again? Wait - did he go to the concert?”

“Frank and yes he did.” Gerard paused, waiting for Mikey to ask more but he just sat there and looked at him with a small grin, “Oh, you’re no fun!”

He rolled his eyes, “_ Fine _. What happened, Gee? Tell me everything.” 

“Alright. So,” he flipped over to lie on his stomach. And sure, they were totally being sarcastic but they did something similar throughout their childhood. Gerard needed someone to vent to that wasn’t an ex-boyfriend anyway, “Adam invited me and I pretty much only said yes because Frank was going. So I’m at the concert, everything’s going good, but then I remember that he’s there, right? I try to escape but then Adam fucking pulls me onto the stage and while that was cool, it didn’t help. I ended up standing by their van until the concert was over. But then Frank came out and stood next to me and we shared my jacket and I bummed a smoke…”

“Oh my God, you’re in _ love _.”

He nearly gasped, turning red so quick that it hurt, “Mikey, no!”

“You totally are!” Mikey repeated, obnoxiously happy about it, “You’ve gotta invite him over.”

…

After a fifteen-minute coffee break (an unofficial one at that), Gerard made his way over to Frank’s cube, ready and confident enough to pop the question. But it seemed that Adam had already beat him to it, laughing along with something that Frank had said. Gerard hesitated but then thought he was being stupid; they were his _ friends _ for crying out loud. Or at least Adam was. Frank was beginning to be a little complicated.

“Of course you have my blessing.” Adam chuckled as Gerard approached.

The atmosphere completely changed and he took that as a chance to crack a very poor joke, “You aren’t a priest, how can you bless something?”

“Uh,” Frank laughed nervously, looking between the two of them.

Adam swooped in and saved the pin from dropping, “Hey, Gee. Frank and I were just talking about the concert.”

“Oh. Good luck on Wednesday, by the way.” He shrugged one shoulder toward Adam.

“Thanks.” He grinned, “Well, I gotta go file some shit. See you two later.”

“Yeah, bye,” Frank said after him.

The two watched him go into the file room before anyone spoke. Gerard turned to him and took a drink of coffee. Frank fiddled with a pen in his hand. Behind them, a phone rang loudly.

“So what’s up?” Frank asked.

“I, uh, was wondering if you were busy this week.” Gerard started off carefully.

He considered the question for a moment, “Not really, no. Why?”

_ Might as well be blunt _, Gerard thought, “Well, I wanted to invite you over for dinner.”

The pen in Frank’s hand clicked. The look on his face was of pure shock, “You… do?”

“Yeah. I’m not that bad of a cook.” He smiled.

“Oh, uh, well. I’m not busy tonight.” Frank laughed awkwardly, “That’s not too soon, is it?”

“No, not at all.” Gerard said casually, internally celebrating, “Is 7 good?”

“Yeah! Yeah, 7 is good.” He tugged at his shirt collar.

“Cool.” He gestured with his mug, “So I’ll see you then. I’ll email you my address.”

He turned to leave but Frank stopped him, “Wait! Uh, do you have a cell phone?”

“Just the one that the company gave me.” He paused, “Do you want my number instead?”

“If that’s okay.” He blushed.

“Yeah. Do you have..?”

Frank handed him the pen and despite the fact that he had sticky notes just a few inches away, he rolled up his sleeve and let Gerard write it where there was available space. Gerard’s breathing had gone a little shallow when he rolled up his sleeve, like some kind of Victorian man watching his lover show her shoulders for the first time. The only time he ever saw his arms was at Adam’s concert so the Victorian reaction was justified, alright? He handed back the pen with shaking hands.

“Awesome,” Frank smiled, looking down at the number on his arm. He looked up at Gerard and the man in question felt his normal anxiety settle in, “I’ll text you.”

…

Mikey was making a pot of coffee in the kitchen while Gerard sat on the couch, watching the blank television screen anxiously. He had meant to turn it on while he was up but then his anxiety set in, causing him to sit down and take a breath. This wasn’t too good because Mikey walked in with a cup of coffee and looked at Gerard staring blankly at the television, giving him a look.

“What are you doing?”

Gerard fidgeted with his sleeve, “Watching the news.”

At the same time Mikey said, “You’re so fucking weird,” there was a knock at the door.

He stood up quickly, smoothing down his clothes. He was wearing his best shirt for this. And by _ his _, it was Mikey’s green flannel that was a little too big on him. Gerard had stolen it sometime ago but Mikey never mentioned it. That was beside the point. When he opened the door, Frank was standing there. Obviously. No one else came to their apartment. He was wearing a plain purple shirt and black jeans. Gerard would never get used to the tattoos and facial piercings, but in the best way.

“Hey!” Gerard stepped aside, “Come on in. Sorry if it smells like stale coffee.”

Frank grinned, “My place smells like stale coffee, too. That and cheap incense.”

“I think I might have candles.” Gerard thought idly before he decided to say what he was thinking, “You look really nice.”

“Oh! Thank you.” He grinned, taking his eyes off of the interior, “I kinda dressed down, though. I feel like I look nicer at work.”

“You’re dressed in business casual attire. I’m sorta used to that. I am, however, not used to…” He gestured vaguely to Frank’s person.

“To me?” He asked, confusion spreading on his face.

Gerard panicked, “No, no! I just mean that I… uh, really like punks.”

And that was probably the most vulnerable and embarrassing thing he had said since that time he accidentally called Nancy ‘the mom they sang about in Stacy’s Mom’ to her face. He was just glad she had a sense of humor.

“So I’m your type.” Frank said slowly.

Carefully, he nodded, “I just think you’re really cool.”

“Not even here for five minutes and you’ve already managed to embarrass yourself.” Mikey said from the couch, sipping his coffee like the prick he was, “Hi, by the way.”

Frank had jumped at the sudden Other Voice, “Uh? Hi?”

“I’m Mikey. Gerard’s brother. We share this place.” He gestured to the space around him.

“You, uh, didn’t tell me that you had a brother.” He sent a wary glance to Mikey, taking a step away from Gerard.

“Fuck, guess I forgot to mention that he kinda wanted to meet you.” He scratched the back of his head.

“Oh.” He sounded surprised, “Well, I’m Frank.”

“I’m well aware.” He grinned.

Gerard looked between the two and laughed nervously, “Do you want some coffee? Dinner’s almost done. And I got your message, by the way.”

He followed into the kitchen, “Good, it wasn’t hard to work around, was it?”

“No, actually.” He picked up a weathered piece of paper and showed it to Frank, “I never knew my grandma had a vegetarian recipe until now.”

“Monterey spaghetti?” He questioned, looking at the recipe card.

Gerard sighed, “It’s a casserole.”

“You made me a casserole?” Frank asked, grinning.

“I, um,” He fidgeted with a nearby mug and changed the subject lamely, “Want some coffee?”

Frank blinked, “Yeah! Yeah.”

Gerard poured him a cup and offered cream and sugar to which Frank turned down. Mikey came into the kitchen to stare at the oven and say that something smelled like it was burning. Gerard panicked and nearly reached into the oven without gloves on but thankfully, Frank caught him before he did, grabbing his arm and pulling him away. It was an honest miracle that the three of them sat down to eat in one piece. 

It was quiet as everyone began to dig into the casserole that Gerard had nearly cried over. When Frank voiced that it was pretty fantastic, he breathed a sigh of relief. Gerard was just about to aska a very lame question about work when Mikey cleared his throat, shooting Gerard a look that said ‘I got this’.

“So how did you two meet?”

Oh, Mikey did _ so _ not have this.

Frank made a noise into his mug, “Mmm, I asked him where the break room was and he showed me. Kinda lame, huh?”

“Not really.” He shrugged, “I met my ex-girlfriend at the pharmacy.”

Gerard gestured with his fork, “She was really lame.”

Frank looked to Mikey. He nodded.

There was another awkward pause until Mikey pitched in again, “So you guys went to the Taking Back Sunday concert together?” 

“Um, well, not exactly.” Frank sent a wary glance to Gerard, “We just ended up there together. Adam is friends with both of us. Did Gerard tell you he went up on stage and sang?”

He nodded.

Gerard watched Frank’s eyes go all starry, “He has a stage presence, dude. Seriously, Gerard, you’ve got like some kind of natural… singer energy.”

He choked on his coffee.

“I’m serious!” He protested, now that both of the Way brothers were laughing at him, “You could be in a band!”

“You’re,” Mikey looked to his brother who was wiping away the coffee that came out of his nose, “really sweet, Frank, but he’s far from stage worthy.”

“Don’t kill his dreams, Mikey.” He teased and the rest of the evening went pretty well.

Gerard had to go to the bathroom after dinner though because he was only 90% sure he didn’t have a coffee stain under his nose and his paranoia usually won situations like that. After seeing that no, he didn’t have weird brown marks coming out of his nose, he made his way back to the table, stopping in the kitchen once he heard a mumbled version of his name. They were whispering. 

“Shh,” Mikey shushed and the two of them were very quiet. Gerard forgot how to breathe.

“But can I?” Frank asked after a moment.

A chuckle, “If you don’t, I think he might explode.”

“Oh,” Frank sighed, “That’s good to hear.”

Since Gerard was a coward and couldn’t take overhearing something he shouldn’t, he stepped into the room. The atmosphere changed pretty quickly; Frank’s timid smile fell and Mikey distracted himself with his cold coffee. Gerard touched the back of his chair with a sigh but didn’t sit down. He was just about to ask why everyone was acting like he had the plague when Frank stood up.

“I better get going. I need to feed my dog.” He said, gathering his jacket on the back of the chair. 

“Oh, yeah you should probably do that.” Gerard sent a glance to Mikey. His brother nodded toward Frank and mouthed ‘go on’. He took in a breath, “Lemme walk you out.”

They walked down the stairs in relative silence. Gerard was thinking of things to say but nothing really ever made sense if he were to say them out loud. They were by Frank’s car when he finally asked what kind of dog he had.

“A pitbull mix.” He replied, “Just adopted her last weekend. Her name’s Megan.”

“A real name,” Gerard nodded, “I always hated it when people named their dogs something like ‘sweetie’ or ‘fluffykins’.”

Frank chuckled, “Shout out to all the pets named snowball.”

“For real.” Gerard snorted. It was pretty dark outside. Their conversation was being lit by a nearby street lamp. Gerard ran a hand through his hair, “I’m really glad you came tonight, as awkward as it was.”

“No, I had fun.” He gestured back toward the apartment, “I thought it was going to be just us but Mikey and I got along after I got over myself.”

“That’s good! Mikey’s pretty easy to get along with.” He smiled, “We should really do this again sometime. But, uh, maybe leave Mikey at home.”

Frank grinned right back, “You mean like go out?”

“Yeah. Go out.”

“Nice,” He said and promptly dropped his keys.

He bent down to get them but Gerard tried to at the same time, causing a chain reaction of Frank’s shoulder hitting Gerard’s chin, throwing him off balance, and catching himself on Frank’s car. If Mikey decided to look out the window then, he would’ve seen Gerard pinning Frank to his Camry. 

“Hey,” Frank said in a meek voice.

Gerard blanked, “Hey.”

Frank touched the collar of Gerard’s shirt as he repeated himself, “Hey.”

He thought it was a moment that couldn’t be wasted, as if God had somehow intervened, and leaned in. Frank didn’t move, though, and Gerard seriously didn’t want to do something without knowing the other person was all for it so he stopped. It seemed that the entire night people were talking before he got a chance too because before Gerard could ask if it was alright, Frank interrupted him.

“I need to go.” He said hurriedly, opening the car door that Gerard was leaning on, causing him to step back.

“Oh,” he watched Frank drop the keys again and push the door open more so he could get in. But that time, the door hit Gerard in the face.

Frank shouted an apology as he got into the car and sped out of the apartment complex. Gerard rubbed at his nose and winced. He knew that Frank hadn’t meant to hurt him, he could deal with a bruised nose, but the rejection hurt. It had felt like Frank wanted to when he touched Gerard but maybe he was just… caught up in the moment and wasn’t thinking? Oh, Gerard didn’t care. Except he did. He cared a lot.

When he got upstairs to the apartment, Mikey was sitting in the living room, texting. 

“What happened?” He asked, not looking up.

“Nothing.” He replied grumpily.

Mikey closed his phone, “Uh, are you okay?”

Gerard narrowed his eyes; it wasn’t unlike Mikey to look out the window and watch, “Why do you ask?”

“Because your nose is bleeding.”

…

The next day, the office was bleak. Half of the lights had gone out and the electrician was on vacation so Gerard had to do his work in the dim light that his small desk lamp provided. He had bought it sometime back when he was working overtime. The cleaning crew was there, though, and every two seconds Gerard tripped over a vacuum cord. Frank wasn’t there either. Gerard supposed he deserved to call in after what he had done.

Gerard was moping in the break room, drinking some tea instead of coffee because the universe hated him enough to give him a sore throat, too. Adam walked in, looking pretty cheerful, and filled up his coffee mug with mostly creamer and a dash of coffee. When he spotted Gerard, he sat down across from him, their legs touching under the table.

“What’s wrong, Gee?” He asked, giving him a shy grin.

He set his mug down a little loudly, “My date was shit. My brother was there and Frank nearly broke my nose.”

Adam blinked.

“What the fuck? That’s not what he told me.” He sat back, nearly looking offended.

Gerard froze, “What did he tell you?”

Adam leaned in really close and Gerard found himself doing the same, having flashbacks to middle school gossip, “He said that you were kinda driving himself insane and he had to get out of there before he did something irrational.”

He laughed, “Oh, he thinks _ he _ would do something irrational? I fell onto him and tried to _ kiss him _ against his car.”

“He told me about that, too.” He leaned back again, taking a drink of his coffee, “He said it was really hot.”

Gerard choked on his own coffee, “Uh - the fuck? The bastard could’ve at least _ texted _ me! I went all night thinking he hated me. And he’s not at work for fucks sake. He _ must _ hate me.”

“Far from hate. The bastard called me after everything. He was hysterical.” Adam shook his head, smiling, “And he’s not at work today because he found another job.”

“He…” Gerard trailed off, shocked, “You mean he doesn’t work here anymore?”

Adam rolled his eyes, “That’s what finding another job means, yes. He said he left you a note at your desk.”

He rolled it over in his mind before scoffing, “Ah, the cleaning police must’ve straightened out my desk this morning before I got here.” 

Adam went on to talk about his meeting with the record company which had gone well but his manager had read the fine print of some of the contracts and decided to hire someone who would be willing to legally talk about the contract. Gerard thought that was fair. But from the sounds of it, the record company was willing to compromise because they liked their band so much.

With good news and bad news placed upon his shoulders, he worked the rest of the day like usual. He wished that Frank would text him. Maybe even call him. Or at the very least send him an email that said ‘hey I don’t hate you’. It felt weird to pass Frank’s cubicle and for it to be empty. Well, not entirely empty. There had been a sticky note on the wall of the Misfits logo; Gerard had snatched it when no one was looking and put it up on his wall.

Maybe his behavior was dumb and stupid and a little clingy but Gerard had really thought Frank and him _ had something _, you know? Or maybe Gerard just read too far into things. And by things, he meant after the Taking Back Sunday concert. 

“What, sad your boyfriend left?” Todd announced his presence, breaking Gerard from his photocopying daze.

Gerard gave him a look that could kill, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Sure, sure.” He nodded, “I was just at your desk and I saw a paper that had his name written all over it so I beg to differ.”

He was so over with this day and so unbelievably heartbroken; he didn’t need Asshole Todd to make it worse. He turned to face him, “And so what if he was, Todd? So what if Frank was my boyfriend? What if I had a crush on him? What if we’d been dating for a few weeks? What does it matter?”

“So you are a homosexual.” Todd crossed his arms, looking triumphant.

Gerard never really came out to people but he didn’t hide anything either. If he fancied a guy, he talked about it to Adam like someone would with a girl. If he thought a girl was interesting, he talked about it the same way he would with a boy. He didn’t care. And he sure as hell didn’t care what Todd thought about it.

“And?” He scoffed, taking his papers from the machine, “What are you gonna do? Rat me out to Bush?”

At that point in conversation, people had begun to watch everything unfold. Gerard didn’t care what they heard.

“Might as well. Oh, what about Nancy? I’m sure she would love to keep a homosexual in her firm.” He grinned.

Gerard’s blood was boiling and his voice rose, “You know what, Todd? I’ve made out with half of the male staff in this place. If you wanna rat out every homosexual and bisexual man in this place, I’ll give you a list.”

“You’re disgusting.”

Gerard said, “That’s not what your son said last summer,” and stormed out of the room, heading straight for Nancy’s office.

Last summer, there had been a company cookout and Todd had brought his wife, their 7 year old daughter, and their 20 year old son. Gerard and Derick (the aforementioned son) had hit it off really well and had a summer fling. Derick often said that Gerard was his moon and stars, the air that he breathes. Mostly due to the fact that it was Gerard who helped him figure out that being gay was fine. And rather enjoyable on a hot July night. It was fun while it lasted but Derick was going to college in Virginia and Gerard was terrible at long distance relationships. 

She jumped when the door flew open, “Way! What is it, dear? What can I help you with?”

“Nancy, I just wanna say right now, I’m bisexual and I’m quiting. I’ll be back tomorrow to pick up my things.” 

There was a blank, terrified look on her face until she said, “Okay.”

Gerard walked back out and paused to see everyone standing up, watching everything unfold. He went over to his desk, grabbed his jacket and his phone, and went out the door. He was livid and upset and wounded and anxious and about any emotion someone could think of. He blindly drove until he was near White’s. He parked alongside the curb, taking deep breaths, trying his best to calm down. After a minute, he thought about just what had happened.

Alright. So thirty more people in New Jersey knew that he was bisexual. That was fine. He would never see them again. None of them. Okay, maybe Adam but that was because Adam was Adam and he would show up at his house at ungodly hours to crash on his couch every second Friday of every month.

Instead of going into White’s and crying the very moment he set eyes upon Lindsey, he went into the new coffee shop she was telling him about. It was a hipster’s paradise, all indie music and muted colors. The place was packed pretty tight but Gerard managed to squeeze his way to the empty space where the line was supposed to be. Everyone around him was drinking coffee and talking about work. Gerard suddenly remembered that he didn’t have a job anymore after that ‘I’m bi and I’m leaving’ ordeal. Coffee would get his mind off of things, though. He would just sit in the back and people watch, calming his shaking hands on a warm cup of-

Dear Lord, it was Frank.

“Gerard!” He nearly shouted, coming around the counter to wrap him up in a hug, “God, I thought that you wouldn’t get my note. I’m switching phone plans right now or I would’ve texted you.”

Gerard, stunned, hugged him back, “I didn’t get the note. Someone threw it away on accident.”

Frank pulled away but kept his arms on Gerard’s biceps. His smile fell, “Hey, are you alright?”

He realized right then that he was shaking under Frank’s arms, “I quit my job. Todd came after me and accused me of things and I just - I quit. I ran into Nancy’s office, told her that I’m bisexual and that I quit. God, Todd was being such a dick-”

“Hey! Hey, come on, Gee. Let’s go to the back.” He put an arm around him and ushered him to the back which turned out to be a large closet full of coffee beans.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard said into his hands once the door was closed.

“No, don’t be.” He comforted, “It’s totally fate you came in here.”

“You think?” He looked up from his hands.

“Yeah. This is the dream I’ve been putting together. Three Franks Coffee. My grandpa and dad are both Frank, too.” Frank chuckled, “I meant to tell you but I wasn’t supposed to talk about it until things were all… final.”

“Three Franks.” Gerard repeated, offering a tiny smile, “That’s cute.”

“Thanks.” He shrugged, “But anyway. This is probably the worst timing but I just wanna ask - can we like… date? I’m tired of beating around the bush. And I’m really sorry for what happened last night. I totally panicked. I like you a lot, Gerard.”

“I… like you, too.” He blushed, “And probably the best timing you’ve ever had.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it made my shitty day way better.”

“So, that’s a yes then?” Frank pushed.

Well, he said no more beating around the bush, “Absolutely. I’ve wanted to properly ask you out for weeks.”

Frank blushed, too, and awkwardly opened his arms for another hug. Gerard took it gratefully. After a long, relieved sigh, Frank pulled away a few inches so he could press their foreheads together. Gerard knew very well that Frank could hear his heart speed up.

“You know, if you need a job, I need someone to help me. You saw how many people were out there.” He chuckled lowly.

“Really?” Gerard wanted to pull away and check to see if any of this was real but he kept his eyes closed. If this was a dream, he wanted to see how it played out.

“Yeah,” Frank replied. Gerard felt his fingertips on his cheek, “You’re gonna hate me for this but I asked for both Mikey and Adam’s blessing.”

He simply giggled, “That makes several things make sense now.”

“I thought it would.” Gerard could hear the lazy smile in Frank’s voice, “Can I kiss you? Make up for last night?

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

They were already so close so the lean in wasn’t long or awkward. Frank pressed up into Gerard and hummed into the kiss. Gerard tried his best not to smile as Frank’s thumb went over the high of his cheekbone. It was just a simple, closed mouth kiss that turned Gerard into putty in Frank’s hands.

When they parted, Gerard knew for certain that he had stars in his eyes, “Hey.”

Frank beamed, “Hey.”

Suddenly, someone pounded on the door, “Frankie!”

“Shit, it’s my dad.” He gave Gerard a look, rushing around the room before grabbing a bag of coffee beans. He held it up as if to say ‘found an excuse’. He turned to leave but stopped, turned back around, and pulled Gerard in for another quick kiss, “Wait here. I’ll be back.”

He nodded, “Okay.”

Gerard watched Frank close the door behind him before plopping down on a crate. How in the world could his life be so unbelievably shitty and yet so overwhelmingly amazing? He just assumed that was how life worked. Sometimes you get ridiculed by ignorant men and sometimes you get to kiss the owner of a coffee shop in the back room. Gerard seemed to both roll a 1 and a 20 on the same turn. 


End file.
